


Keepsakes

by jturner36



Series: Doug & Carol - by Jordan Turner [9]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jturner36/pseuds/jturner36
Summary: Author's note: I did the absolute best I could trying to decipher the dates around some of the ER plotlines I refer to in this story. Forgive me if I've erred. This story takes place after "Make a Wish."





	Keepsakes

**Author's Note:**

> The show ER, and all characters and situations borrowed from it, are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Brothers, etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and no money is made from it. The story contains graphic scenes and words which may offend some readers, and as such, it is not appropriate for children under 18. This story is not to be archived or distributed without the permission of the author.
> 
> Stories in the series:  
> A Clean Break; Stages of Ending; Retribution; Covenant; Tap-dance; Free Falling; Blink of an Eye; Vivisection; Keepsakes; In the Steam; Through the Night; Cornerstone; Domesticity; Caretaker; To CH; The Empty Space; Tenderhearted; Intoxicated; The Present; Summit; The Harbor, Part I; The Harbor, Part II; Transition Game; Expectations; Joint Venture; Kiss of Life; Residuum; Aftermath; Letters Never Sent; Wonderful Things; The Mere Fragrance; Walking the Tightrope; Vernal Equinox; Bits of Broken Glass; What it's Not; Ayant Seulement L'Imagination; Culmination; Tidings of Comfort; Parallel Hearts; Visitation Rites; Wee Small Hours; Barometric Pressure; The Emerald City; A Peaceable Start; Mother's Day; Spilling Forth; Significant Other; Doug and Carol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do the walls come down  
When you think of me  
Do your eyes grow dim  
Do the walls come down  
When you think of me  
Do you let me in  
Nothing like a rainy night  
To set your heart rememberin’  
Nothing like a vivid dream  
To take you back again  
\- Carly Simon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing the door quietly, she locked it behind him and walked to the window. He didn't know she was watching and after he pulled away, she strained to see the tail lights until he turned the corner. Carol leaned against the window frame and smiled. The birthday party had taken her by surprise. What amazed her most, though, was the role Doug had played in organizing it for her. He had been wonderful tonight. In fact, she thought, he had been wonderful in general lately. For the first time since she'd known him, he was attentive, supportive. Acting like a friend. Maybe even a little more than a friend.

He had wanted to tell her something tonight. It was plain on his face. He tried, but for some reason, he stopped and turned to leave. When he kissed her on the cheek, she closed her eyes briefly. The stubble on his face, the softness of his lips, the feel of his hand on her arm, was stirring. She had wanted his lips to linger, but they didn't. More and more lately, she thought about what it would be like to be with him again. In fact, tonight, looking at him over the candles on the birthday cake, she'd thought of nothing else.

After washing up and brushing her teeth, Carol walked into her bedroom and turned on the light. What had she expected from him tonight? He was slightly embarrassed, talking to her in the kitchen during the party; when she asked him what was going on with him, he retreated. Said he wanted her to have a nice birthday, that he'd wanted to do something nice for her. It was great, afterward, to talk to him alone. She really could have talked to him all night. If she was bolder, more confident, she might have asked him if he still thought about her. About them, together again. But, she couldn't. What if he just wanted to stay friends?

Carol climbed into bed and fell back on her pillow. What do I want? she thought. Things were so good and stable in her life right now. If Doug pursued her once again, would things be any different? Maybe it's best this way, being friends. Less chance of being hurt. Turning off the light, she fell asleep thinking about the party. And Doug.

She woke up refreshed the next morning. She wasn't due at work until late afternoon, so she planned to putter around the house a bit. Walking into the kitchen to make some breakfast, she opened the refrigerator and saw the remnants of her birthday cake. Doug had wrapped it up carefully. She'd watched his hands as he did it. Those hands. His soft hands, gently tucking the plastic wrap around the plate. It was an inconsequential thing, but she was drawn to watch them anyway.

After making some toast and pouring some juice, she sat at the table to eat. His presence in her house had done something, had made her pensive. What did she want? Could her heart ever stand another go-around with him? He seemed like a different man. Certainly she was a different woman than she was when they first dated. In fact, Carol thought, she'd changed considerably. When they first met, she was so vulnerable and innocent, in a way. So much had happened since then. So much.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. "Hello?"

"Hi, Carol, it's Toby."

"Hi. How are you?" Carol was surprised to hear his voice.

"I'm pretty good," he answered. "What's going on?"

"Oh, not much. I'm just hanging around the house today before work."

"When are you on?"

"Three to eleven."

"Well, I wondered if you're free next week. There's a new place that's opened up on LaSalle, a restaurant that has a different band every night, and I thought it would be nice to take you there."

She hesitated. He'd seemed a little too eager on their last date, too attached. Oh well, why not? she thought. She'd had a nice time on their first two dates, even if he was a little overbearing. "Toby, that sounds nice. When?"

"I'll tell you what. I'll find out who's playing there next week and we'll decide. I'll call you later today right before I leave and so we can check our calendars. Okay?"

"Sure."

"Great. Enjoy your morning, I'll talk to you later."

"Bye." Carol hung up. So he wanted to see her again. There was no grand passion there, but he was a nice guy. They had a good time together. And, after all, there was no one else in the picture.

Carol cleared the breakfast dishes and took a shower. All that was left to do after getting dressed was change her sheets. She stripped the bed and got fresh sheets from the hall closet. Putting the sheets and the pillowcases on, she had a thought; she remembered something that Doug had given her a long time ago. In fact, it was one of the few gifts she'd ever gotten from him. She walked out of the bedroom into the attic.

If I remember right, it's still up in the chest, she thought.

Her cedar chest was the place she kept precious things. There were report cards from elementary school, paper dolls she had worked on day and night when she was a little girl. Pressed flowers from her prom corsage. Her high school yearbook. It was over in the corner and she had to move several boxes to get near it.

She blew the dust off the top and opened it. All sorts of things were inside. Carol came across a cream-colored envelope. It was her wedding invitation. She'd tossed it in after she found it, weeks after the wedding was canceled. At the time, she had considered throwing it away, but finally decided not to. Like most things in this chest, it was a milestone on her life's journey. Nothing to avoid or to fear. In fact, it didn't much bother her anymore, really, to go through the chest. Before she moved into this house, sometimes she'd just open it and look through things. Learning how to review her past, making way for the future.

There it was, what she came looking for: The box of linen spray, stuffed in the corner. It had been there for years, unopened. She smiled wistfully, seeing it. Doug had bought it for her right before they stopped seeing each other, after he'd returned from a medical conference.

His words came back to her as if he'd spoken them yesterday. Having been apart from each other, they had made love fiercely that night, although things between them were rapidly going sour. His lovemaking was intense as he devoured her, and hers was passionate as well, each silently savoring the feel of the other, committing it to memory. Hopelessly trying to salvage something from the mess they'd made. Certain that it was ending soon.

After he got dressed, as he was getting ready to leave, he reached into his coat pocket and held out a box. "When I was away, I saw this and I wanted to give it to you. The lady in the store saw me looking at it. She wanted to know who I was buying it for. I..." His voice became quiet, tentative. "She said to spray it on your sheets in the morning and when you go to bed at night, you'll..." He stopped a minute and when she looked up, his eyes were downcast, staring at the box.

"I'll what, Doug?"

He raised his eyes and fixed them on hers. "You'll dream of your lover," he said softly. The words were bittersweet.

Carol took the box from his hand. Emotions welled up inside of her; she could not immediately respond to him.

"Carol...." he began.

"Doug, please, just go," she said tearfully. "Please."

Bending down, he kissed her hair and then he left. Her heart was so sad then, knowing they would wind up apart, that she never used it. Later, with Tag or Shep, she couldn't bring herself to open it.

Now, with the chest open, seeing the things contained within, she felt the need to think about those times past and she looked inside again. The blue spiral notebook was there, beneath some old papers. Hesitating a minute, she took it out and walked downstairs, carrying the box of spray with her as well. There was so much of her life invested in the pages, she thought, and there was so much to recall. After she went into the bedroom and tossed the box on the unfinished bed, she got a cup of coffee from the kitchen. Back out to the living room, she opened a window to let the warm spring air in and then curled up on the couch. Opening the cover, she began reading.

*****

April 22, 1994

It seems really pointless to write things that I'm feeling in this little book. But I'm just following orders. My doctor said it might help, but I'm supposed to write how I feel and right now I don't know.

Tag has been wonderful. I know he wants an answer, I know he wants to know why. Mom has been a pain in the ass, though I guess I can't blame her. She's hovering. I hate it. Their assumption is wrong. They think it was because of Doug even when I deny it.

Most everyone else has been quiet now. I haven't seen or heard from anyone in a while. Susan called a few weeks ago. Told me about Doug, that he was an emotional wreck. What else is new? Of course, now he is nowhere to be seen. Just as well.

May 8, 1994:

Just came back from Dr. Bickleman. I'm getting tired of this. I'm ready, I just want to get on with my life, but I can't until I get back to work. He's pressuring me to leave the hospital, says I need some time to adjust. No, he's absolutely wrong. I need to take charge of my life again.

Tag took me out tonight. Treated me like I was a piece of crystal, like I was fragile. I hated it. I'm afraid this is what it's going to be like. This is my penance.

May 18, 1994:

Well, he came tonight. Complete with flowers. Mom was furious, but I saw him anyway. He looked awful. Took him long enough, the bastard.

August 1, 1994:

My first day back. It was eerie. I kept seeing things from before, seeing myself being wheeled in. Faces hovering over me. It was rough at times. But, if I had to sum it up as a whole, I'd say it was okay. Generally okay. It felt like I had never been away, and I am so relieved to have this day behind me. Mark, Susan, everybody was great. They even held a welcome back party and it made me feel at home again.

Tag was, as always, great. We had lunch and it was nice to be back at the hospital with him. He's so steady and reliable. It's a nice thing, having him in my life.

Then there was Doug. He's really clueless. For a guy who wanted nothing more than to get away from me, he sure tried to stick to me today. Self-centered as always, I'll bet he thinks he was the reason. And then, well, he felt so guilty he said he wanted to see me again. Wanted to know if what we "had" was worth another chance. Yeah. Right, Doug.

*****

Carol got up for another cup of coffee, thinking about Doug, how he had acted during that time. He was really insistent, she thought as she stirred, the sugar dissolving. He tried hard, but she was glad she withstood the flurry of attention. She would have been miserable all over again with him had she not stood her ground.

Back to the couch to read again, she almost laughed when she read the next entry, although she hadn't laughed when it happened. It was all pretty lame on Doug's part.

*****

September 3, 1994

Unreal. I'm furious. He showed up, last night, at my door. I can't believe Tag was so restrained. He tried to stop me, but I ran out the door anyway. I must have looked like a crazy woman, in my robe and sandals. Doug was so damned drunk, his eyes were glazed over up at the El. It felt good to leave him there, to bury myself in Tag's arms at home. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have cared for him?

September 18, 1994

I decided to move back in with Tag today. It's definitely the right decision. It's the best thing for me. He's in love with me and I love him. We're wonderful together.

Okay -- writing this is about being honest with myself. The reality is, something happened. We kissed. It shouldn't have happened, it was an accident, but it happened. What have I done? Why? It just came over me, just like before. It was that quick. I needed him.

What scares me is, what if I do it again?

All I know is, after the wedding this journal is going in the trash. I never want Tag to see this, to know.

*****

Carol smiled ruefully. Poor Tag. She did end up telling him after all. He was so angry, but forgave her later anyway. And this business about withstanding the attraction to Doug. Never could do it for long. She remembered that kiss, she remembered feeling his heart pounding. Mine was pounding too, she thought. Everything was pounding, even after a ten second kiss with him. He could sure do it to me back then.

Flipping the page, her heart sunk as she read again.

*****

February 27, 1995

I haven't written in ages. There was no need. Today, though, I feel as thought my whole being was ripped apart. How can a child take hold of you so quickly? How can I leave her behind? Tatiana, I failed you. I tried, but I failed you.

February 28, 1995

I'm thinking more clearly today, I just felt like I needed to vent. I've always been a little skeptical about the value of putting my thoughts on paper. But today, it's what I need. I didn't sleep at all last night. Tag was in bed, but I couldn't bring myself to be near him. Damn him. He can't see it. Didn't understand what I wanted to do, how I was compelled to take her in, to take care of her. My mother, Lydia, Tag, no one understood. No one but Doug.

I know I've said some awful things about him, and I probably mean every word that I say. He's a cheating bastard, a liar, he's awful. God, why am I crying? Last night he was everything I needed. I went there, really not knowing where to go. How ironic, I guess, me knocking on his door after midnight. He was the only one who understood. The only one I thought I could turn to, who would comfort me. And he did. He did.

I will never be able to repay him for being the man I needed him to be last night.

*****

Carol put it down, reflecting on her words. She hadn't considered it when it happened, but it was one of the first selfless acts Doug had ever committed. How easy it would have been, that night, to fall back into his bed. How difficult it must have been for him to march her out of there, to bring her home where he knew Tag was waiting for her. She thought about that for a long time. There had been moments, times when he acted like a friend. She'd just forgotten them.

Turning the page, she directed her attention to her writing once again.

*****

May 19, 1995

Well, here I thought after my wedding day I'd be throwing this thing out. No wedding yesterday, no journal in the trash. My emotions run from severe disappointment to, frankly, relief. The whole day was a blur after Tag and I talked. He said what I was too cowardly to admit, that my love for him was not the kind of love to base a marriage on. I'm sorry that I hurt him.

Doug called this morning. He didn't have much to say, said he was at work, just asked if I was okay. Sometimes he can be so sweet.

As for me, I'm taking the next few weeks to look carefully at my life, to decide what's best for me.

*****

Her stomach rumbled and she looked at the clock, realizing it was past lunch time and she was hungry. She put the journal down and went into the kitchen. Peering into the refrigerator, she found some ham and cheese and made a sandwich. After lunch, she straightened up the kitchen and walked back into the living room. Time to pick up the journal again.

*****

September 22, 1995

I met a guy today and he's interesting. I enjoyed myself with him. His name is Ray Shepherd, he's a paramedic and he was on my ride-along. He's so down-to-earth and has so much life to him. So, I guess we'll see. We went out tonight and I had a great time.

October 5, 1995

Things are finally falling into place for me. Shep is a breath of fresh air. I think I've been so insulated, being with all these doctors, that I forgot how wonderful people on the outside can be. He's so genuine, so much fun to be with. I'm enjoying myself for the first time in a long time.

January 5, 1996

Things are moving along. Shep told me that he loves me. I love him, too. I'm a little scared, but he makes me feel so safe and happy. I'm trying to let myself go, to relax about this. He makes it easy to do.

February 1, 1996

Sometimes, writing in this journal is like catching up with an old friend. Shep has started talking more about getting married. Scary thing is, I've actually started listening.

March 1, 1996

It's taken me a long time to put this down on paper because it was too horrible to consider for the longest time. Shep and Raoul were caught in a fire last week. Shep had some injuries, but Raoul's were severe. Third degree burns over 90% of his body. Even now, writing it, makes me so sad. Raoul died and, sadder than that, I think a part of Shep did, too. He's edgy, irritable. He's out of control and I can't stop it. The frightening thing is, neither can he without help.

*****

July 4, 1996

I haven't written in a while. Things are going well and I am gradually rediscovering myself. Until tonight, since we broke up, I hadn't seen Shep in weeks. But tonight, I saw him with another woman. That didn't bother me as much as I thought it might. What bothered me more is that I think that he'll have another flare-up someday and it might be harmful to him or anyone who's around him.

*****

Shep. He was such a necessary part of her life at the time. In fact, Carol thought, it was a good thing that she met him, that she loved him, and now, that he was gone. After Shep, she spent a great deal of time thinking, learning about herself. She found that she was capable, that she could tackle things without fear of failing. Most importantly, since they parted ways, he taught her that she could survive without a man in her life. For so many years, Carol either deferred to men or deified them. Now, she was able to be much more realistic about men and realized that when the right one came along, if it was the right time for her, things would just unfold and happen.

Carol turned a few pages and came upon the first entry of the year.

*****

January 17, 1997

Last night was an interesting night. Doug and I did a safety check. We sort of played hooky, too, down in *that* room. It was weird being there with him and staying fully clothed. We laid around and talked. He listened, mostly, because I told him about the nurses and the budget. Doug was a bit moody tonight, and I think he gets nostalgic, a little, about what was once between us. I guess I do, too, sometimes. Just a bit.

You know, when I took this job as manager, the extra pay looked really enticing. Now, I'm not so sure. It's hard being the boss when your friends and their jobs are on the line. I know I can do the job, in fact I think I do it very well. It's just the added pressure makes me wonder if it's worth it.

But, most of all, tonight I feel like I got my best friend back, after a long time. It's a good feeling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something in my pocket

That was written years ago

In faded ink says, "You are my fire"

Do you think so...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was getting late and Carol went back to the attic one last time to put her journal away. As she went to flip the spiral notebook back into the chest, something fell out from within the blank pages. It was a hospital envelope. I didn't think I'd saved this, she thought. Folded up inside was a little note written on a prescription paper. She remembered getting it at the hospital, after their first date. He'd tucked it in her pocket as he walked by her, right after seeing a patient. Her face was flushed when she opened it back then, keeping it out of view of the other nurses who were trying to peek over her shoulder to see what was causing her embarrassment. Picking it up now, she slowly opened it, reading the familiar handwriting.

"Carol -- Last night was incredible. Again? -- Doug."

Again. She smiled. Later on that day, Carol remembered, after he'd given her the note, he had peeked around a corner in the hallway and looked at her, his eyebrows raised, waiting for reaction from her. She had smiled and nodded and he walked towards her, grinning.

"So, you got my note?"

Carol looked down at the floor, smiling. "Uh, yeah. You put it in my pocket, how could I miss it?"

"Well, would you like to go out to dinner tonight? If you like Mexican food, we can go to Topolobampo. You know, we never did get out last night...." He chuckled and smiled at her again.

Carol looked at him warmly. "I'd like to, Doug."

"Six-thirty okay?"

"That's fine. I'll see you later."

After work, Carol had gotten ready and eagerly anticipated seeing him. When the doorbell rang, she had to restrain herself from running to answer it. Composing herself, she opened it and smiled.

"Hi, Doug! C'mon in."

"Hey, Carol."

"Do you want a drink?"

"No, why don't we get going? I got reservations and we can talk on the way."

"Sure, let me get my coat."

They had a terrific dinner and a wonderful evening. He asked about her family, where she'd gone to school, then told her a little about himself. She found him easy to talk to and opened up to him. After dinner, they took a walk and when he held her hand, her body began to react. Sensing the change in her, he stopped walking and faced her.

"Carol, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She looked up at him, confused.

"Um hmm, that I'm going to do this in front of all these people." Doug took her in his arms and kissed her so gently on her lips, making her moan into his mouth, making her head swim.

Her eyes still closed, she struggled to speak. "Doug? Can we go back now?"

"Um hmm, I'd like that."

They got to his car and he drove to her apartment. At every stoplight, he turned to her and kissed her again. By the time they walked inside, she was on fire. They laid their coats over a chair and turned to look at each other.

"Doug, come here." Taking him by the hand, she led him to her bedroom.

He took his time, undressing her, making her wait so long for his hands and his mouth. He took his time with everything.

Carol had thought, after being with him the night before, that the desire she felt was just the kind of thing that happens when you're with someone for the first time. Tonight, though, she felt it was something different, some primal need she had that he filled so well. Under his touch, she lost all track of time; the way he made love caused her to say frantic things. She told him she wanted to feel his hands run over her body, that she needed his mouth to engulf her nipples. When she asked him to eat her just like the night before, he smiled.

"Carol, I'll do anything you want." And he did, he did everything and more, and finally, she begged him to enter her.

"I want you to make love to me now, I don't want you to stop." Gripping him, not letting go, she buried her face into his neck, nipping his shoulder, unable to control her passion as she felt him inside of her again.

*****

Carol stopped thinking about him and glanced up at the clock. It was time soon to get dressed, to go to work. Walking into the bedroom and seeing the bed she realized that she'd never finished making it. Running her hand across the crisp, white sheets, she paused a moment, then picked up the box. Now there was no reason not to open it, and she did, spraying the fine mist into the air, watching it settle on the sheets and pillowcases. The scent was lovely; the smell of eucalyptus and spearmint was refreshing and clean. Pulling the top sheet and comforter up, she smoothed the bed and stepped back a moment to look at it.

There was one last thing to do today. She ran back to the attic to pen one more journal entry.

*****

May 9, 1997

Last night I had the most wonderful evening. Years ago, I couldn't have imagined this would happen. But it has, and looking back, I can see how I've arrived at this place, where I am now.

I had such a wonderful time, after my birthday party last night, alone with Doug. We talked and laughed so easily. There was no tension, no animosity. Just two friends, together. I look back with a little sadness, wondering why we couldn't have been like this when we were seeing each other. But, in all, I don't regret what I've been through. I've learned so much about myself, about what I want in life and about what makes me happy.

It's nice, finally, to see Doug relaxed and happy, too. He's been so different, so caring. So nice to be around. I hope things remain like this. I hope we can stay this close.

I wish for more happiness to come.

*****

Carol read her entry one last time and, satisfied that everything was in order, she put the journal away and smiled as she began getting ready for work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is it easier for you to say  
You never loved me anyway  
Or do you hide me in your attic trunk  
Like a stowaway?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End


End file.
